#idmon malin

[zuulosdovah]

started as a warm up

made it angsty

look what you’ve turned into

[visceryl]

Forget Me Not

@hogwartsmystory and I co-wrote a short story involving Jaxson (Ethren’s brother) and Konnor a few years after the Order. Hal Greywind belongs to @one-very-angry-hufflepunk and Idmon Malin belongs to @zuulosdovah ------

The pitter of rain bounced off the roof of the colonial farmhouse and dripped down every window. It had rained from first daylight to evening, turning the grounds outside to muddy puddles, while animals sought shelter in barns and enclosures sparsely populated throughout the owned land. 

Inside, the dim glow of a single living room lamp and the hearth of a fire lit up the room where Konnor lounged tiredly in a reclining armchair. His feet propped up atop a fluffy mass of white fur as a large dog chewed idly at a cow ankle bone that crunched beneath its jaws. A book’s spine was broken across the arm of his seat, untouched for hours unlike the glass of red wine he turned in his grasp.

Somehow the day off work had been longer and more exhausting than if he’d gone. With no papers to keep up with or assignments to see to, Konnor was left to his thoughts alone in the empty house he called home. Hal and Charlie had invited him over to stave away the blues of the day, but as he denied every year, he’d insisted anniversaries shouldn’t be skipped.

Even the bad ones.

The glass lifted to the edge of his lips as he took down a long sip and set it on the nearby side table. In his other hand, he gripped tightly to the crumpled and dirted remains of a photograph. Taken several years back in shoddy quality and with minimal color, a light leak consumed the entire lower half of it. But the importance of it remained. Grouped all together, Konnor could still make out the faces of those he’d joined the Order with. Talbott, Chiara, himself, Hal, Tonks, Ben, Eileen, Ethren. 

He sucked up a breath and his gaze tore from the photograph. His head knocked to the cushioned back of his chair. Like flashes of moments from harder times, they lingered in his mind. The day of the final battle nearly broke him. He ended it with several broken ribs and a scar that ran from his hip down to his thigh, but the worst injury had been the heartbreak after, when bodies were fished from where they laid. 

A crack of lightning flashed outside the window, followed by the rolling boom of thunder that shook the shudders. Konnor parted from his thoughts to rub a hand over his face, massaging tiredly at a temple. Beneath him, the Great Pyreneese stirred and gathered to her feet before making off for the kitchen.

“Yeah, I get it. Bit too miserable in here, huh?” he called after the dog. The picture was set aside his wine glass with another fleeting glance before he drew the book in hand again. It was some shitty mystery novel to pass the time. 

Konnor read for another half hour until he came to a stop at the end of a page, hardly remembering a single word from the entire chapter. Too distracted. Another gulp of wine disappeared behind his lips. Mourning the dead was like getting your soul devoured by dementors. 

He lost himself to thought again, droning out to the crackle of the fire as the rain relentlessly poured outside. Then a knock came. Several harsh repetitive raps that sent Iris into a loud barking frenzy from the other room. “Quiet, quiet!” Konnor yelled out, pushing up onto his feet. He crosses the room, quietly muttering to himself about how Hal couldn’t leave well enough alone. But that wasn’t who he found.

As the door swung open, Konn straightened in surprise, half shielded from the gust of wind and rain. 

A cold, unforgiving rain poured down from the angry grey clouds above. It pelted the tattered, brown leather duster of the man who stood beneath its rage, auburn hair plastered against his face. 

Konnor's eyes widened. "Jax?" 

"Konnor." Tired bags hung under his eyes and rain dripped off the end of his nose. "Mind if I come in?" 

Konnor shielded himself half behind the door from the blustering wind. "It's late. Why are you all the way out here?" 

"Maybe I just needed to drink with someone other than a little kid." Jaxson caught on to the look of disapproval on the man's face in seconds. "Don't worry," he mumbered, long fingers fishing through his hair. "I didn't just leave him alone. Summer has him for the night."

Konnor sighed. "Come on in," he murmured as Jax stomped into the house, shaking his hair out like a wet dog. "You really need to stop bouncing him around so much. It's probably confusing. And uh... pick your poison." He motioned to a liquor cabinet near where the TV rested. 

"It's better than being stuck with me. Believe me." 

“Maybe when you get like this, yeah.”

Jaxson made a beeline for the whiskey. He swiped up a bottle and heaved down into one of the chairs. The neon glow of the screen reflected in dull eyes, and wordlessly the man tipped the bottle back. 

Konnor eased down next to him, eyes searching the man. "If you're going to drink me dry, you can at least tell me what's going on." 

"What. Can't just come over and visit my brother's best friend?" 

"Then you should know better. I'm practically a professional at dealing with you emotionally constipated Whitecross boys. And you don't make a habit of visiting. I'm always hunting you." 

"The kid keeps me busy. Sorry." Jaxson took another long gulp. Red had flushed onto his cheeks. 

His eyes caught the photograph that Konnor had left on the table. The Order always made sure to photograph its members... to remember those gone, or killed during the war effort. That particular one... had been the recruits of 1995.

Ethren. 

Jaxson dragged his gaze away, heart twisting into painful knots. “...Ethren and Tonks?”

Konnor grimaced. “...I always pull that dusty old thing out on the battle’s anniversary.” He retrieved his own wine glass, polishing the dwindling remainds and held out the glass. "Don't leave me out. How is Alaire doing? Feels like time has flown." 

Jaxson sighed. "Perfect," he murmured as he poured the man a glass. "Somehow, he's managed to dodge a bullet. He doesn't have his dad's cynicism, or his mother's cruelty. He's... growing up to be a very kind and thoughtful boy."

"..he's three now, right? Think you'll consider preschool for him? He'll just end up going to Hogwarts or Ilvermorny, but muggle schools before then aren't so bad." 

Jaxson's jaw tightened. "I... I was thinking of just schooling him myself. At first." 

Konnor arched a brow. "Yourself? No offense, Jax, but what do you know about current day curriculum? You're already here looking like death just getting by as is." 

Jaxson's teal gaze flashed with a sudden rush of anger. "I'll manage!" He shouted, cracks tearing down the cup. A deep breath followed, as fingers massaged his face. "...it'll be fine." 

He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself. 

"You're not alone, you know," Konnor said, his voice gentle. "In any of it." He stared down into his own glass. "I know you think you have to do it all yourself... but it's not healthy for you. Or the kid. Ethren wouldn't want this for you."

"Ethren's dead. Doesn't matter what he wants." 

"That's horseshit. Don't make him come haunt your ass." "Horseshit?" 

The edge of Jaxson's lip lifted. “...he's gone. Enjoying whatever paradise he's found, or maybe just...nothing. It's us, the ones who survived who are fucked over." 

"Well, I'm sure as hell am not going to sit here and wallow because he made a dumb decision." Konnor's eyes searched Jaxson's face. "There's still stuff we can do. We can live our lives now. I put everything I had on the line to make sure of it just like he did, and now his kid can have a good life and a family if you'd just let him have that. You can't push all your shit onto that little boy."

Jaxson's eyes were tinted with red as he stared down at his hands. Calloused, and decorated with the scars of nails digging into his palms. With a breath, they curled into fists. "I know. Alaire... he doesn't deserve that. I need to get over it. That's why I'm here. I need your help.”

Konnor grabbed Jaxson's shoulder. "Ethren was my best friend. Anything, Jax." 

"It's come to my attention that you're proficient in a rare caliber of magic." Jaxson glanced over. "You know how to obliviate."  

Konnor's hand lifted up from his shoulder and hovered. "...I learned it in the order." His eyes narrowed. What does that have to do with you?" 

"Take him away." Jaxson's voice unraveled into a whispered beg, and he snatched Konnor's hand in a desperate grasp. "Ethren. Please. I... I can't do it anymore."

Silence lifted from Konn as a wave of sadness twisted his features into something soft and knowing. He sighed, letting his shoulders fall. “You can’t seriously be asking me that, Jax. I can’t do that… It’s not right. I know it hurts but that pain is something you have to push through.”

“What’s the point!?” Jaxson snapped. “It’ll never go away! It… it fucking hurts. And it's hurting the kid too. I can’t be this broken husk taking care of Alaire, he deserves better!”

“Obliviating those memories won’t help you any. It's dangerous. It creates holes. Empty spaces... If you completely cut ties with everything that could remind you of him, maybe it could work but that's not the case. Which is why I'm saying you can lean on all of us. We can help you get back on your feet and manage that pain. To give the kid a good life.”

“It’s not enough.”

“It has to be, Jaxson. It’s all we’ve got.”

Jaxson tore up to his feet, knocking the bottle of whiskey aside and it teetered on the end table. Konnor quickly leaned to catch it from spilling as the older man tangled his fingers up through his hair. “You know…” he finally growled. Jax locked his gaze on Konnor. “I thought you of all people would understand.”

Shock rippled over and Konnor pushed up after him. “I do understand. I know where this is coming from, but it’s not the answer.”

“You took Allston’s memories!” His eyes clouded with a lingering wetness. “He was your own brother. How dare you deny me what you did for yourself!”

“Don’t,” Konnor snapped sharply. In a few short steps he got right up into Jaxson’s face, the roots of his hair beginning to bleed from pink to a darker red. The two were level with another, tension crawling between them. “I have to live with what I did every damn day! I have to miss him like he's as good as dead! I took his memories so he would live, Jaxson. You know how easily I could have forgotten him too?! But that's not the point. The point is we have to remember for them. To protect what is left."

“And what about what I want?! Allston didn’t even ask for you to take his memories, you forced it on him. This is… This is something I want! If you were able to take the coward’s way out then I have every right to do the same.”

Crack.

It happened in a flash. A cold anger burned and strangled in Konnor’s throat as the rest of his hair bled with crimson rage and his fist snapped against Jaxson’s jaw. Then he shoved him. With fingers wrenched up in his jacket, Konnor sent Jaxson to the ground. “Don’t you dare call me a coward! What I did saved my brother’s life, I’m not running from what I did. You… you don’t get to come here and do this to me, Jaxson!” He grasped at his throbbing knuckles, turning away as the sting of tears met his eyes. “Especially not today. I lost my best friends. My brother. And you want to call me the coward?”

Jaxson caught himself on an arm as he hit the ground. Stunned. Fingers drifted to the dull ache of his jaw before his teeth ground together, ignoring the slightest twinge of metal on his tastebuds. For a long while he didn’t meet Konnor’s gaze and when he did, a faint sheen of wetness marred his cheeks. “I can’t make it like this,” he whispered. “I’m trying to save my life. I…” His voice cut off in a choke and he bowed over to hide his face. “Everything I did. Everything I was, it was to keep him safe. Now...now.. What am I supposed to do!?”

The hurt strangled in Konnor’s chest. “Find something,” he hissed bitterly. His hands shook and he fell back onto the couch, collapsing to sink his face into his palms. “Find even the tiniest shred of happiness and live. We don't get fairytale endings, Jax, we just have to make the most of what's left and you've got a whole lot waiting for you with Alaire." He dared glance up, wiping a sleeve across his own face. “I’ll be damned if I lose another one of you because you couldn’t stop dwelling on one single thing.”

“An arrow killed Ethren.”

“An arrow didn’t god damn kill him, Jax!” Konnor lashed. He retrieved the bottle up from the table and knocked it back for a long swig to ease the matching ache of his fist and heart. “He couldn’t move on. He couldn’t let go of the poison that is Merula fucking Snyde. She was never going to be good for him.”

Jaxson hadn’t moved from his place on the floor, staring down absently at his own hands. “You mean his obsession.”

“What else?! You’re all selfish bastards. Chasing after your obsessions like starving dogs with little regard for who it ends up hurting.”

“Is that why you did it, then? Allston couldn’t move on?”

Konnor let a sad chuckle rattle from his chest. Angry locks of fiery red had returned to their soft, white shade. "Towards the end.. my cover got blown with some death eaters. I hadn't seen Allston in a while and it seemed like I never would. I was hunted and somehow.. somehow the second I was cornered he was there. He got himself captured and tortured and I know the only reason he knew was because he was doing things illegally. When I found him I got him out, Jax. Before he could kill himself."

“...Sounds like your brother and I have a lot in common then.” Jaxson drew a sharp breath as a tear dripped down from the tip of his nose. “I’m afraid. I’m afraid of falling into the same things he did. Falling until it… I just want to stop feeling like this. How am I supposed to move on?”

"...do what Ethren couldn't. What Allston couldn't. Let go. Be what they couldn't be. Be someone who cares for who they have left, even on bad days." 

"That feels impossible," Jaxson muttered. Still on his hands and knees, his fingers gripped his soaking wet shirt, like he was trying to grab at his heart. "I feel like my soul died with him. I wouldn't have made it this far if I didn't have Alaire."

"Maybe you two should go on a vacation. Go somewhere new for a couple weeks... find your soul again, being his guardian the right way. You cut away from your family wealth, right? Look, I'd cover it for you." 

"..yeah. Sounds great." Jaxson's voice was numb. Cold. Slowly, he pushed to his feet. "Thanks, Kon. Sorry for... this." 

Jaxson went for the door. Konnor chewed on his lip and exhaled in an exasperated breath. "Stop." He motioned to the cushion beside him. "Stay the night, Jax. I think... we can afford a night of booze and talking about him. A night to break." 

Jaxson didn't turn. "I thought the point was to not break." 

"The point is to not let it consume you." Konnor's let his gaze travel to the picture on the mantle. His smile was sad. "We're just people,” he murmured as he pushed up to take it in hand. His thumb drew over Ethren’s face, and he ignored the sharp twist of his heart. “We hurt. We ache. Sometimes, things feel like it's too much. So a night of drinking and accepting that is good, every once in a while. Otherwise, we just burn out."

Jaxson's head turned. Rather than anger... appreciation glittered in his eyes and he sighed. "Guess that's true," Jaxson said. "Won't do Alaire any good to pick him up and still be wallowing," he muttered as he eased down into the seat. 

Konnor followed close after, tipping the bottle his way. "Did Ethren ever tell you about our trip to Paris?" 

"You two went to Paris?" 

"Oooh yeah. He put me on his damn death trap of a bike." Konnor shook his head with a snort. "Your dad was screwing my mom, so we decided to pay a visit and have a luxury dinner on them after." 

Jaxson stared at Konnor for a long while before laughter bubbled from him. The first semblance of a real smile. "That... really doesn't surprise me. Our dad... he was always with other women until..." Jaxson's eyes darkened. His jaw tightened and he downed another gulp. 

"...I know. My dad's dead and my mom is basically dead to me. Aren't we just pathetic?" 

"Ethren wasn't," Jaxson muttered. "When mom was in danger... he dropped everything to find her. Even used all the unforgivable curses. He would have torn down the world to get to her." He leaned back. His wet hair flattened against the back of the sofa, and the neon light of the television reflected in his eyes. "That was just the kind of person he was. Friend, family... lover. When he bonded with someone, he would never give up on them." 

"You really idolized him, didn't you...?" 

"Idolize him?" Jaxson considered that. "Guess it's only natural to talk about... the good things when someone isn't here anymore. But no... I didn't idolize him." Jaxson snorted and leaned forward, auburn bangs falling with him. "Ethren was selfish. Selfish and obsessive and downright cowardly , at times. He didn't want to live for himself, so he lived on the whims and needs of others. And when he did want to live for himself, he threw it away, for a war he should have never been a part of and a girl that never deserved him."

"Good. I'd have to hit you again." Konnor stared at his knuckles, already beginning to bruise. Likewise, Jax's jaw was swelling in a rush of blue and black. "We had a no bullshit policy. Sometimes, while we were in the Order, I'd make a phone call to him or he'd make one to me. Like we weren't at war, and no time had passed... we'd laugh or talk or cry or curse until we lost our voices. Something like that would completely undo the stress of having to get up the next day and go right back into a room full of enemies." He grimaced. His hair had dulled to a bluish grey tint. "We had a deal that after everything was over, a few of us would high tail it to some remote island and piss away a few weeks." 

"Yeah?" Jaxson said quietly. "Probably Tredyffrin Island... the one  our family owns... no one ever goes there anymore. It would have been perfect." The elder brother sighed and poured himself another glass. He stared at the downpour of red pooling at the bottom of the crystal goblet while thunder roared outside the glass window. "He made me a lot of promises, too. Like when he was an uncle, he was going to spoil the shit out of whatever kid Idmon and I adopted. He insisted he'd never have a kid of his own." Jaxson dragged a sharp breath. "...fuck."

"Everything changed... you ever still think about giving Alaire someone to grow up with?" 

"...no. Between Idmon and I... we probably only have enough sanity between us for one brat. And that's with the girls' help. Aisling and Summer... they’re absolute life savers."

 "Well, I can't blame you for that," Konnor said with a tired smile. "Shit, I always imagined a family and kids one day, but... I think after everything, I've only got it left in me to help all of you guys manage your own rascals. Hal and Charlie have two right next door. And ever since Barnaby found out I've got my own little menagerie, he drags Aisling and their kids over all the time. And Alaire is always welcome." 

"He's been so excited to come back and see Uncle Kon." Jaxson's smile was short-lived. "...how do you manage it all?" 

"Depends on what you mean by 'all.'" 

"Losing Allston. You'll never be able to talk to him again. Losing Ethren... Tonks... Your dad...everything." 

"Well, if you haven't noticed, I have a healthy supply of alcohol. But I don't make a habit out of that, my position requires me sober, obviously." He swished his drink thoughtfully. "What really drives me is knowing what all I've still got. Lots of people still want and need me around." 

"I don't actually want to forget him," Jaxson whispered. "Remembering the good times...it's part of what pushes me forward. And Alaire deserves to know those stories. It just seems so much... harder this way." 

"I know." Konnor leaned over, and his fragile fist punched Jaxson's shoulder lightly. "Don't ever ask me to take away your memories again. That magic can go right to hell." 

Jaxson smirked. "...Ethren always hated that spell. He said to be obliviated... it was the deepest violation a person could endure. Those memories are precious." He gave a deep breath and lifted his goblet. "...to remembering the fallen. And living in their honor." 

Konnor lifted his glass in turn. "Help me finish this bottle, and the guest room will have your name written all over it."

-------

Morning came with the promise of clear skies. As the sun painted the sky a beautiful array of pinks and purples that began to open up to the blue of day, Konnor rolled to the other side of the bed with a tangle of sheets around his legs. At the end of his bed, Iris snoozed with soft snores. 

From downstairs he could hear the rustle of footsteps cascading against the hardwood floors and with a tired rub of his head, Konnor swung himself to stand from the bed. His hair poked out in all directions as his hands raised up in the air and a series of pops crawled up his spine. “Jax?” he called out through the house.

No answer.

Konnor sighed and crossed the room with last feeble attempts to pat his platinum hair down into something presentable. The stairs winding down from the hallway just outside his room creaked with each step. He passed several pictures of Hal, Charlie, and the twins on the way down until his feet stalled on the bottom step. 

Jaxson stood at the doorway in the living room, dragging his jacket over his shoulders.

“You’re leaving?”

Jax’s gaze darted up. He looked rough. From the clear as day hangover to the black and blue bruise in the size of a small fist surrounding the right side of his jaw. “...Yeah. I figured I’d leave you to your day.”

“You could always stay for breakfast, you know. Bet you could use it.”

“Nah, I should probably go pick Alaire up. But uh… Konnor?”

Konnor finally touched down into the living room, flicking on the light to join the flecks of light illuminating from the window. “What’s up?”

“Sorry for last night, and thanks. I needed that.”

“Yeah I’ll bet you needed that knuckle sandwich. Just don’t be so much of a stranger. You better haul yourself and Alaire back over here soon or I’m going to lob you another one.”

Jaxson hid the beginnings of a smirk. “Do that and I’ll have to get you back. Don’t worry, we’ll visit soon. I think I just need some time to clear my head first.”

“Then do that. You can always call too, and tell Alaire I say hi.”

Fingers curled around the doorknob, opening it ever so slightly. “I will.” He opened the door, and all but fell backwards as a small toddler came barreling into the house to cling to his legs. 

“Found you!” Alaire giggled as he buried his face into his Uncle’s leg and Jaxson blinked. 

“Alaire?! How did you-”

“Summer mentioned that you’d gone for the night... and that you might need me.” That voice. He’d know that voice even in a symphony of voices. Idmon Malin came from around the corner, blue eyes soft, his smile kind as he lifted Alaire up into his arms. Blonde hair fell down his back. “I thought I might drop- Merlin’s beard, Jaxson, are you all right?” 

Jaxson, still stunned at his boyfriend having shown up out of the blue, blinked. “W-wha?”

“Your face. Bloody- did you get hit with a bludger last night?”

“A...oh.” Red bled onto his cheeks as Idmon’s long, delicate fingers gently brushed his bruise. “No, there was an uh... accident last night involving an erumpent and a... uh-”

“I slugged him,” Konnor purred as he leaned against the doorframe.

Idmon snorted. “Well, I imagine he deserved it,” he said. As Alaire began to fuss, he put the child down and he rushed over to jump into Uncle Konnor’s arms and his gaze searched his lover. “...are you alright. You look... like a mess.”

Two short steps brought Jaxson to his boyfriend. His arms hooked tight around his shoulders and he rested his head against Idmon’s, a ragged breath drawing from his lungs. “...it was a long night.”

“..the anniversary,” Idmon whispered. His palm found Jaxson’s cheek. “You should have stayed with me..”

“Shouldn’t have run,” Jaxson agreed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize... did you find what you were looking for..?”

“Uncle Konnor!” Alaire tugged on Konnor’s shirt. “Aunt Summer gave me a toy snitch!” 

“Did she?” Konnor lifted the boy up into his arms. “That was very sweet of her. And speaking of sweet... I think I have some biscuits in the cabinet. Want some?” 

Alaire giggled. “They’re cookies, biscuits are... biscuits!”

“Oh, no,” Konnor grinned as he tickled the squealing boy.  “Do not start that, your dad and I got into so many fights about cookies and biscuits!”

Jaxson’s eyes softened as he watched Alaire smile and hug Konnor around the neck. His hand found Idmon’s, squeezed, and gave a breath. “Yeah,” he whispered. “I think I did... let’s stay for a bit, then go home.”

[zuulosdovah]

The Malin cousins! From left to right: Danni, Kettil, Tea, Mats, Idmon and Kaina.

Character introductions under the cut

Daniella “Danni” Malin-Flett (née Malin) Born: 1956

First child of Hakon and Lone Malin. With both her sibling being rather non-conforming according to pureblood standards, Danni took it upon herself very early to be the picture perfect daughter and heir so that Tea and Kettil could continue to be themselves in any way they wanted to. As such, she sets higher standards for herself than her parents ever could, and even though she’s the epitome of maturity and composure, as well as a largely successful duelling champion, nothing she does will ever be good enough to her. Her earrings change according to the phases of the moon.

Tea Malin Born: 1958

Second child of Hakon and Lone Malin. Tea (pronounced Te-ah) is very much a free spirit and a traveler at heart. She hardly spends any time at home, choosing instead to travel the world to experience as much of it as it as she can, both muggle and magic. When she runs out of money, she goes home and works at her uncle Viljar’s shop Olivkvisten until she has the funds to travel again. She runs by her own clock - always late, but never failing to show up in the end. Quite adept at broom-racing. Has a scary accurate gut-feeling when it comes to the weather.

Kettil Malin Born: 1961

Third child of Hakon and Lone Malin. Everyone was convinced Kettil (pronounced Shet-ill) was a squib until he finally displayed magic at the late age of 13. What people don’t know is that he bargained with a spiritus to get those abilities - a dark creature who stole them from someone else to give to Kettil - in a moment of fear, as he was a squib born to a very traditional pureblood family during the first wizarding war. The white of his hair is a result of his body trying to reject the foreign magic - something that still causes him to have spouts of accidental magic and fainting spells. That hasn’t put a damper on his spirit though (unfortunately). He’s still as smart-mouthed as he is accident prone, happily talking back to the wrong people and tripping over air like it’s his day job. Has a huge interest in magic artifacts, dark ones especially. His favourite is a Troll Ball he’s affectionately named Trulsa and uses to torment his sisters with constantly.

Mats Seipel Born: 1971

While technically not related to the Malins, Mats’ folks have always been neglectful of him, so he’s come to strike up a strong father-son relationship with Viljar that has him invited to all the family gatherings. Even so, he’s a rather private person who’d rather not talk about himself if he can help it. Slow to trust and used to his own company, it takes a while for Mats to open up and make nice with strangers, but for the ones who break through his standoffish exterior, he makes for a very loving and trustworthy friend. Has heterochromia, but despises the attention it attracts, so he keeps his left eye hidden behinds his bangs. He could use glamours to hide it, but his skin is overly sensitive to them - they make him break out in hives.

Jacob “Idmon” Malin Born: 1965

First child of Sigurd and Lucy Malin. They say Idmon used to be remembered fondly among his peers, before the Cursed Vaults drove him mad. The truth, naturally, is a bit more complex than that. While kind-hearted, Idmon also suffered from severe anxiety that gradually turned him into a chronic liar and people-pleaser who changed personality and opinion on the fly based on who was around to hear. It wasn’t a thing done out of malice, but rather a fear of rejection and confrontation. Between that, his natural legilimency, the Cursed Vaults, and R, it was really no wonder he ended up a nervous, paranoid mess. To himself, he’s twenty nervous habits and one hell of an obsessive personality trait crammed into a gryffindor uniform that ultimately feels undeserved. Everything about him is fake, fake, fake, he’s tricking everyone into thinking he’s a good person when in reality he’s a manipulative coward, oh Merlin, he’s awful-- 

Drakaina “Kaina” Malin Born: 1973

Second child of Sigurd and Lucy Malin. Kaina is very bold in everything she does. She’s a dangerous combination of being brave to the point of stupidity, having a strong sense of what's "right," and no regards for authority figures or rules. She’s social and loud and for the most part optimistic and happy, but with a temper that can swing to all kinds of extremes at the drop of a hat. Emotionally driven and good at reading people thanks to her natural legilimency, Kaina is just content with surrounding herself with people. She has a strong protective streak as well as obsessive tendencies, and needs to be needed, otherwise she’s not happy. Unfortunately, this can make her pushy, since she doesn’t really know how to be a friend without having something to fix, so she often inserts herself in situations where she isn’t wanted and doesn't belong.

[zuulosdovah]

baby’s first 2d animation